


Undercover Martyn

by veidtous



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4008154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veidtous/pseuds/veidtous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I didn’t know that gawking at Chubby Cheeks counted as having a life.” Marco clicked his teeth.</p><p>“I bet you did the air quotes.” Marco retaliated, hoping that he would be successful in changing the subject.</p><p>“Stop changing the subject Mar – ” André called his bluff.</p><p>“Codenames.” Philip sounded as annoyed as ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I've Been Fucking Around While You Were Saving The World

**Author's Note:**

> It's a spies au.

_Madrid, Spain._  
_March 23 rd, 2014.  
4:56 A.M._

The city finally started to wake – the sound of distant doors clattering against their frames rang in time with the sweet melody of birds chirping against the yellowing sky. A car engine came to life in time with a light in the apartment complex across the street. Marco adjusted his position behind the window, his rifle carefully propped in the sill with the barrel positioned to the room underneath the now lit one.

His target was a fifty-two year old man confirmed to be a traitor and a threat to national security.

In other words: this was a normal assignment for him.

“ _Hey Re_ **–** ” André’s voice cut through the otherwise silent room.

“ _Codenames._ ” Philipp’s voice chimed in quickly, muffled from his seat next to André not bothering to use his own microphone.

“ _008,_ _did you know that Montpelier, Vermont is the only state capital in the United States without a McDonalds?_ ” Marco removed his finger from the trigger of his gun and placed his shoulder against the nearby wall.

“ **Why do you know that?** ”

“ _Why don’t you know that_?” Marco resisted a sigh. It was pointless to try and argue with André Schürrle, self-proclaimed media master.

“ **Because I have a life.** ” He pushed off the wall leaving plaster pieces of it crumbling to the ground and repositioned himself. The faster he got the job done the sooner he could go back to headquarters, report back to M, and call it a day.

“ _I didn’t know that gawking at Chubby Cheeks counted as having a life._ ” Marco clicked his teeth.

“ **I _bet_ you did the air quotes.** ” Marco retaliated, hoping that he would be successful in changing the subject.

“ _Stop changing the subject Mar_ ** _–_ ** ” André called his bluff.

“ _Codenames._ ” Philip sounded as annoyed as ever. Marco distinctly recalled one of the first missions he had been assigned to with André being his quartermaster where the two of them casually dropped the other’s name without thinking much of it, and when the mission was considered a success the two met back at headquarters only to be greeted by an unimpressed Philipp Lahm. ‘We’re a government agency’ he had said, ‘you need to be professional about this’ he had also said, but it only seemed to fall on deaf ears as the two of them decided to find a loop hole around that and make up idiotic nicknames for the other.

Silence followed Philipp’s reprimand, Marco hearing only faint clicking of keys from the other end of his earpiece. Not wanting to jinx it by thanking Philipp in successfully shutting André up for any given amount of time, Marco went back to looking out the scope of his gun. The lights hadn’t turned on in the designated room yet. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist to the glowing green screen that indicted that it was now five in the morning. The target would be up soon – Marco placed his finger back on the trigger of the gun, angling the gun down slightly.

Another moment passed. The silence continued, but only briefly.

“ _So, seriously, do you do anything but stare at him?_ ” It was nice while it lasted.

“ ** _No I don’t._** ”

He was met with silence again and for a quick second Marco believed that admitting that he, for a lack of a better word, _gawked_ at one of the newer agents often would keep his friend quiet.

In hindsight, Marco should have known better.

“ **Wait, I mean yes I do!** ”

The lights came on in the apartment he was watching, and after swiftly taking out the earpiece that was booming with André’s howling laughter, Marco took his shot. He could see the glass shards falling into the apartment, see the body hit the ground with an unheard thud, and when the blood started to trickle out of the wound as the body made no apartment sign of life, Marco picked the earpiece back up.

“ **Mission completed, coming home.** ”

**– – –**

_Munich, Germany._  
_MI7 headquarters._  
_March 23 rd, 2014._  
_3:35 P.M._

Per protocol, when Marco returned back from a mission the first thing he was to do was report back to Miroslav, and then write up the report detailing the events from start to finish while typically leaving out André commentary to save the rest of the world from his friend’s comments. Once that was finished he’d have the rest of the day to do as he saw fit. His days after missions were usually spent eating at the café, hitting up the gym above Q-Branch that was always open, and then going home. Depending on the time he had in-between sometimes he’d visit André in the office or see if Mario was free.

_“So, seriously, do you do anything but stare at him?”_

Marco sucked in a breath between his teeth as he continued typing up his report, a soft whistle going about the otherwise busy office room. Of course he did more than just stare at Mario – the two of them went out to eat (sometimes with André and sometimes with Ann-Kathrin from the undercover agents division which typically ended up with André and Ann-Kathrin ganging up on Marco while Mario stayed neutral), they went for runs around the building often, and on rare occasions they met up at the one of their apartments to watch the latest additions to Netflix.

He pressed his fingers harder into the typewriter keys, the fresh scent of ink reaching his nose at each new letter press. “ **André’s not right… Of course I do more than _that_.** ” Marco said under his breath as he hunched over the typewriter with his pointer fingers extended, pressing into each letter one after another. “ **Fuck him.** ” He continued venomously. So what if he liked spending most of his time with Mario? So what if he looked forward to spending his Friday nights inside Mario’s luxurious apartment eating Cookie Crisp out of the box while Indiana Jones played on the television for the fourth time that month?

And more importantly, what did André know anyway? Well, anything past those obscure facts that most human beings weren’t aware of.

“ **So what, who cares? Not me.** ”

“ **Marco?** ”

Marco shot up from his bent over position at the desk and whizzed around to find Bastian hovering over him with a confused look. His mouth hung open as Bastian tilted his head to the side and asked again. “ **Hi… Uhm…** ” Marco sputtered looking up at the other with wide eyes. “ **I, uh, just really hate this thing and I don’t get why we have to use it.** ” He added, licking his lips before gesturing to the typewriter in front of him. Bastian gave him a suspicious look before going back to his desk.

Marco swallowed back his sigh and turned back to finish the rest of his report with his lips pressed together in a thin line.

**– – –**

_Munich, Germany._  
_MI7 headquarters._  
_Cafeteria._  
_March 23 rd, 2014._  
_5:21 P.M._

“ **– and did you see the newest Vikings episode? Ragnar’s just fucking it up for everyone now, can’t wait for Lagertha to take charge and –** ”

Marco wasn’t listening – instead he had decided to push his fries around his paper plate to create amorphous shapes in the ketchup. He was vaguely aware that André was going on about some television show that they both watched but his mind was elsewhere. Was he really being that obvious with _whatever_ it was that he felt towards Mario? The two of them had known each other since the start of the academy. They had spent most of their training working as a pair, and as luck had it they got assigned to the same organization.

Of course Marco was going to be (Excited? Happy? Some other emotion he wasn’t ready to name?) _distracted_.

“ **Earth to space cadet Marco! Come in, come in, or I’m gonna turn my phasers to stun.** ” Marco finally looked over at his companion with an unimpressed expression.

“ **You don’t even watch Star Trek.** ”

André waved one of his fries towards Marco’s face. “ **Jokes on you a-hole, I started marathoning it with Fips during your last trip to London.** ” Marco looked at him suspiciously.

“ **Fips lets you watch television during missions?** ” He didn’t believe it.

“ **Yeah ‘cause I’m his favorite and you were taking too long.** ”

Marco scrunched his nose and went back to pushing around his fries. This was usually how their conversations went: some pop-culture references, playful banter that amounted to nothing more than thrown food and disgusted faces, but never something truly hurtful. That’s just how they flowed, and that was how Marco liked it. There was certain easiness to it, an effortless friendship that seemed to come out of thin air.

“ **So, really,** ” André started up again, annunciating each syllable between bites of his meal. “ **What’s on your mind?** ”

“ **Nothing, it’s cool.** ”

“ **Bullshit.** **Rolls Reus _please_ , you’re like an open book to me.**” That had its good and bad side. Marco threw the fry he was currently holding back down on the plate to join the rest of the ketchup covered potatoes. “ **What you were sayin’ earlier about Mario.** ” He replied shortly. Marco knew he wouldn’t have to go into more detail than that when he noticed the ‘O’ shape André had made with his mouth. He watched as his friend nodded a couple times, seemingly at nothing but his own thoughts, and popped a couple fries into his mouth.

“ **You know,** ” André started once he swallowed and took a quick sip of his beverage which smelled suspiciously like root beer, knowing full well that one of the doctor’s in the Med Lab specifically told André to lay off the caffeine or else his stomach would become inflamed again. “ **Why don’t you just ask him out on a date-date? You’re a fucking spy Marco, asking a dude out should be the easiest thing.** ” Marco let his shoulders drop in time with his brow. “ **It’s not _that_ easy.** ” He replied.

“ **Fine… I’ll do it for you. Mario!** ” André turned around in his seat and started to wave at Mario who had just come out of the line.

“ **André, no**.” Marco hissed quickly across the table, the temptation of strangling the other rising with each second.

“ **André, _yes._** ” André whispered back, quickly flipping Marco the middle finger before Mario reached their table. “ **Heyo wonder boy, take a seat.** ” André said brightly, grinning from ear to ear like that cat that had finally caught the canary.

“ **Hey Sunny.** ” Marco said after, rubbing the back of his neck before thinking better of it and snatched one of the napkins from on top of the table.

Mario returned the greeting before taking the open chair next to Marco who managed a weak smile as Mario flashed his own pearly whites. God he was so _weak_ for his best friend; from the way his hair parted on the top of his showing the alabaster skin underneath that was slightly sunburnt from all the missions outside to the small space between his two front teeth. “ **So, Super Mario, what’s on your agenda for this weekend?** ” André’s voice broke through Marco’s Mario-clouded haze. _Shit._

“ **Uh, didn’t you hear?** ” Mario asked, confused, as he looked between André and Marco. The two of them shrugged and shook their heads, almost as confused as he was.

“ **Marco and I got assigned the job in Sicily.** ”

André turned his head from Mario to Marco in slow motion, and if Marco was going describe the smirk that worked its way onto the others face, it would have been from that cheesy ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’ film. Marco felt his soul shrink three sizes that day.

“ **Fuck me.** ” Marco cursed under his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello i finally decided to join and post something (howcouldthishappentome.mp3). i mentioned this idea to a friend and she and i bantered about andré's character and next thing i knew i was writing this. LOL i'm just au trash i'm sorry.
> 
> it's going to switch between present day (which is along the lines of skyfall-esq james bond) and then past which is more academy based (is you've seen kingsman: the secret service, it's along those lines)! not sure how many chapters this will have yet but most will fall into the 1.5k-3k length. there will be serious parts to the story i promise, but i am SO FOND of the silliness. 
> 
> this is going to be a couple chapters long, i don't know how many just yet. i do plan on doing a couple one-shots with other pairings and some with mario and marco so it'll be a series sort of thing.
> 
> i hope you liked it! i haven't done this in a long time so xo thank you for reading!


	2. I Can't Feel My Face

_Somewhere above Italy._  
_May 7th, 2014._  
_6:59 A.M._

“ **Why did we have to leave so early?** ” Marco opened one of his eyes to peer at Mario sitting beside him who had started sporting a rather impressive grimace. After two weeks of training the two had packed up their gear and headed off to Sicily with a strict instructions as well as proud smirk and pat on the back from André. “ **I don’t know _Julian_ , why don’t you go complain to the travel agency when we get home.**” Marco replied before closing his eye again in an attempt to get comfortable again.

“ **You’re not helping _Lukas_**.”

“ _Wow you two really do sound like a married couple._ ”

Marco made a quiet hissing sound under his breath grabbing his phone as he moved out of his seat and to the unoccupied bathroom in the back of the plane. He slammed the door once he crammed his way inside and sat down on the toilet once the seat was covered. “ **You’re a prick you know that?** ” For the past two weeks, he and Mario had been training to pass as a newly married couple on their honeymoon. When Marco had questioned why he and Mario had been the ones chosen, Mertesacker’s reply had been ‘ _because you two work really well together_ ’.

That hadn’t been the part that had made Marco groan. Of course he and Mario got along well – they had left the academy around the same time, entered MI7 in the same division, and were often paired up for missions. They were best friends.

_But a married couple?_

“ _Whatever Marco, I know you’re excited to be Mr. Götze for a week._ ”

“ **Who said I’d take his last name?** ”

“ _So you have thought about it? Nice. Mats owes me twenty_.”

“ **Why isn’t Fips yelling at you about codenames?** ” _Change the subject_ , Marco thought.

“ _Because he’s in the bathroom. Can you believe that? He’s an actual human being. Anyway, back to Mar –_ ”

Marco pulled the earpiece out of his ear and turned off his phone once the stewardess came over the loudspeakers to announce their arrival. He looked himself over in the mirror, sighed, and went back to his seat beside Mario. The two had been given a mutual fake last name to share, and it had been left up to them to decide who took whose surname. “ **Everything go okay in there _hunny_?** ” Mario said as he put up his tray and grabbed his carry-on from underneath his seat. Marco tried not to focus on how nice it sounded to be called hunny from Mario and rolled his eyes.

“ **Yeah, just peachy _babe_. Hope you’re ready for a week in paradise.** ” Because Marco certainly wasn’t, and the more he thought about it the harder he felt his heart beat in his chest.

– – –

 _Sicily, Italy._  
_The Ashbee Hotel._  
_May 8th, 2014._  
_9:30 A.M._

Check-in has to be one of the most traumatising situations in Marco’s life up until this point. It definitely overshadowed the first time he killed a man, which, if he looked at it in hindsight actually _didn’t_ but for the time being he felt that he was going to go into a cold sweat and pass out right there on the freshly polished marble floor. Before they got into the taxi to go to the resort, Mario had pulled out their wedding rings and shoved them on their respected finger and Marco had a hard time trying to focus on anything else.

The ring was silver with a thin line of gold wrapping around through the center. It was simplistic in style, almost generic, save for the inscription on the inside. Marco didn’t spend much time reading it, only heard from Andre that it contained some kind of German phrase along the lines of ‘I’ll always love you’. Or maybe it was ‘I’ll always cherish you’. Regardless, when his friend had told him about it before he left, Marco’s face felt hot.

‘ _It has to be believable Marco. So make sure you shower Mario with attention on your trip. Well, more than you already do._ ’

Marco wanted to argue that it’s most certainly _not a trip_ or a vacation or anything of the sort, that it’s a mission that both he and Mario need to take seriously, but that’s always been a bit difficult with André in his ear constantly.

“ **Lukas**.”

He’s brought out of his typical ‘André-sucks-I-need-a-new-best-friend’ daydream to Mario giving him a confused glance. Right, he needed to focus - he reached into his pocket and pulled out his fake ID card and other credentials they need for check-in and tries (failed) to put on a smile for the clerk behind the desk. They smile back at him, down at Mario, blushed, and then moved their eyes back to their computer and Marco can feel his face going red again.

“ **Please enjoy your stay with us, and congratulations**.” Marco had to stop himself from asking ‘for what?’.

“ **Thank you.** ” Mario said with a smile as Marco grabbed the cards off the counter and quickly nudged him down the hall to the elevator. He tried to think of something else that doesn’t involve being actually married to his friend - it’s just a job and after the week they’ll be back to being Just Friends and Marco can go back to wallowing in his own self pity at not being able to properly vocalize the overwhelming sense of love and adoration he feels for the man beside him now.

The same man whose tilted back slightly on the balls of his feet looking at the counter before straightening back up. “ **They keep looking at us**.”

Marco made a face and turned his head, looking over his shoulder to glance back at the person who finally noticed the two of them are looking back, jumped slightly, and disappeared into the back. “ **Maybe they’re jealous of what a catch I am.** ” Marco mumbled without thinking and digs his nails into the palms of his hands. Who wouldn’t be? Mario laughs behind his hand and shoved Marco with his elbow.

“ **Yeah that’s totally it. How did I get so lucky?** ” Mario slipped into the elevator when it arrived and Marco has to remind himself to move yet again.

“ **You got me Jules.** ” He wanted to call him Sunny, but refrains. He can always do that later.

– – –

 _Sicily, Italy._  
_The Ashbee Hotel._   
_Honeymoon suite._  
_May 8th, 2014._  
_9:46 A.M._

They spend the first fifteen minutes or so sweeping the room for any bugs or signs of foul play, and when their search brings nothing Marco finally toed off his shoes and flopped down on the king sized bed - the bed he’d have to share with Mario on this week long trip, the one they would be pressed together in and sharing warmth. His face heats up again and wonders if he should take taking count of how many times it does (he’s sure André would love it).

“ **Look at this place.** ” He heard Mario call from the other room. A luxury honeymoon suite had been purchased for them at the chagrin of Toni who had to do the books and do the booking for the two of them. Marco lets himself enjoy the image for a second. “ **It’s got one of those jacuzzi tubs and shit, Marco, you gotta come see this view!** ”

Marco can think of a couple views he wanted to witness on this trip. He wanted to see the sun come up over the ocean, wanted to see the birds dive into the water and see people start their days up on the land around them. He wanted to be able to see the locals around them going about their day in some kind of wistful ignorance to the reason he’s here. He wanted to see Mario’s face when he wakes up in the morning that will no doubt be tucked underneath his chin with his fingers spread across his stomach in a desperate attempt for more heat despite the glaring sun above them.

He wanted to see the glimmer in Mario’s eyes when he has to introduce Marco as his husband, and he wants to relish the sound even if it’s all false.

So he pulled himself up from the bed, dragged his feet unnecessarily to the open balcony door, but stopped in the doorway when he caught Mario leaning against the railing and simple takes in how happy Mario looks, how almost content he is with his surroundings despite the true nature of their stay. Marco has to steady himself, his hand on the door when Mario doesn’t notice he’s behind him yet and watches how the others head goes back, how his eyes close, and his skin absorbs the shining morning sun of Sicily.

And Marco decided this is better than anything else he’ll see on this mission.

“ **You’re right Sunny, it really is a nice view**.” Nice seems like an understatement for the Mario landslide Marco found himself sliding down. Finally Mario turned around and smiled at him, gesturing for Marco to join him; so he does. He moved to the spot beside Mario and bumps their shoulders together as his hands hung over the edge of the metal railing, their rings shining against sunlight.

“ **So. What should we do first _darling_?** ” Mario asked and Marco has to stop himself from sighing in delight. This isn’t something he should get used to.

“ **Well. We’re a newly married couple on a resort in Sicily that overlooks the ocean,** ” Marco started, holding his fingers up in the air to start counting the possible situations. They can go to the beach, or get breakfast somewhere, or go over their mission brief which seems the less fun out of all possibilities but still something they should do.

“ **Don’t newlyweds have sex the first day of their honeymoon?** ” Mario interrupted in an almost unbelievable casual tone that Marco found himself gripping the railing of the balcony to stop himself for either falling backwards and bashing his skull against the stone, or toppling over and rolling into the sea. If he had to choose any, the second of just disappearing into the ocean sounds so much better than having to look at Mario in the eye.

“ **Uhm, I’ve never been married so I wouldn’t know and, I mean,** ” Marco knows he’s rambling through his words, talking too fast. Mario elbowed him in the ribs and turned to go back into the suite as Marco continued to stumble over his words, like he was expecting his friend to make some quick quip at him like normal. “ **I’m kidding! C’mon let’s order some room service I’m starving.** ” Marco sighed but kept his grip on the railing.

“ **Yeah alright. Wouldn’t want you to die of starvation.** ” He can hear Mario’s exaggerated laugh slowly fading the further he goes into the suite and eventually it stops and is replaced by the sound of waves crashing against the beach.

Marco looked out at the beach and feels his knees buckle and bang against the trailing.

How was he supposed to do this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the delay rip i'm trying to get back in the swing of writing again. 
> 
> but here it is - chapter two!! with considerably more gotzeus than chapter one. like i said before, most will only be a couple of scenes as far as chapter length goes. i have two one-shots in this verse planned already.
> 
> they include: 'thursday is work out day' and 'team building: the camping edition'. (expect banter)
> 
> xo


End file.
